


blankets and body heat

by peachcandle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sick Character, Sickfic, emotionally constipated keith and lance, keith just wants to get warm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9248111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachcandle/pseuds/peachcandle
Summary: Keith is cold and tired and tired of being cold.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was rewatching the series, and in episode two when Allura is running the drill, I noticed that almost everyone shows up in pajamas, but Keith shows up in his jacket...because it's the only thing in his room. 
> 
> Anyways, heres my first VLD fic ever.

Keith doesn't know how to work a space thermostat. In front of him lies a panel with an assortment of buttons, some blinking some not, and a few chambers with amber liquid and dark blobs floating through them, reminiscent of the lava lamps back on Earth. He hovers over the control panel, chin in hand and shoulders shaking underneath a blanket, expression steeped in frustration because he doesn't have a clue what anything does.

  
He could be cutting off the power to the ship, or releasing some weird gas, or maybe giving the initial for an explosion, just because it's the middle of the night and he can't seem to get warm. Truthfully, he doesn't even know if anything in this room controls the temperature on the ship. And even if he knew how to change the temperature, he'd have to change it in his room specifically. With a muffled groan, he runs a hand over his face, because this was a plan that was doomed from the start, and he really shouldn't have even gotten out of bed in the first place, but he was just so cold.

  
The only people that could help him are Allura, Coran, and _maybe_ Pidge, but he knows they're all asleep. The last thing he wants to do is make a big fuss out of something so small, something he could so easily just...fucking deal with, especially if everyone else is putting up fine living in a freezer.

  
Yeah, there's no way Keith is going to try and wake anyone up to help him. He was already exhausted enough as it was.

  
He'd woken up freezing, beads of cold sweat sticking to his skin like snowflakes. He'd groggily pressed a hand to his face and flinched at the cold contact. His forehead was warm, but not warm enough to warrant any concern, so he'd swaddled himself in his blanket and tried to find sleep again. Despite his efforts, he'd started shivering, eventually becoming so focused on the chills racking his body that sleep was no longer an option. After kicking off the blanket and hissing as the loss of layers made him tremble harder, Keith had thrown his jacket on.

  
"Seriously?" He'd muttered through clenched teeth, even though he'd never had anything other than his jacket available in the room. Why in the quiznak didn't he have any extra clothes? He'd ripped the jacket from the hanger, thrown an angry look at the wall for good measure, and then crawled hastily back into bed. Even with the jacket, his teeth were clicking together uncontrollably, and his nose had started running. Sure he had a fever, but Keith felt like there was no conceivable way the castle temperature wasn't playing a part in this.

  
So that was when he'd decided that the only plausible solution was finding the space thermostat.

  
It had consisted of wandering down the huge, still brightly lit halls of the castle, searching for a room that had anything that looked even remotely like it controlled something. He really hadn't thought it through.

  
Now, defeated by the sheer helplessness of not understanding alien technology, he clutches the blanket tighter around his shivering frame and decides to go back to bed.

  
The door makes a swishing sound as it closes behind him, and then Keith is alone with the empty hallways and the eerie silence of the sleeping castle. He sneezes twice, and it echoes. Anticipating the sound of footsteps or a door opening, he tenses. Thankfully, the halls remain silent.

  
The walls and the floor start to tilt as he walks, a dizzying blur of gray. Keith sticks an arm out of the blanket and uses the wall to keep himself upright. Contact with the cool metal sends a fresh, harsh pulse of tremors through him that go all the way down to his toes.

  
It feels like he's moving at a snail's pace. What's worse is that he's not even completely sure just where in the castle he is. It's fucking huge. He keeps walking, praying for the turn that leads to a familiar corridor. His room, and furthermore his bed, seem impossibly far away.

  
Trying to find the thermostat was the _worst idea he's ever had._

  
After a while, he comes to a point where an open door is allowing a soft blue light to seep into the hall. Despite the exhaustion, Keith can't help himself from peering in. He finds himself awestruck. Hundreds and hundreds of stars float in the room like a thousand colonies of fireflies. It feels like he could reach out and capture one in his palm. He understands that it's only a holographic view of a galaxies he doesn't even know the names of, but it takes his breath away all the same. It makes him forget, just for a second, how bad he feels. It makes him feel small and alive.

  
The stars begin to shift around him, swirling around the room impossibly fast as the holograph zooms in on a specific planet. Keith has to close his eyes, because the shifting visuals are making him feel light headed. He puts his hand on the edge of the doorway, bending slightly at the waist to try and steady his swimming vision.

  
"Keith?"

  
Keith blinks and turns his head towards the sound of his name. Leaning against the wall at the edge of the room, fingers frozen over a holopad, is Lance. He looks surprised, guilty almost.

  
"Yeah, it's me." Keith answers, gritting his teeth afterwards so that they won't click together. His voice comes out evenly, and he's pleased with that. He tightens his grip on the blanket, knuckles bleaching. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just saw the light and wanted to see where it was coming from."

  
"Oh," Lance stifles a yawn into his fist, "I just like to come here sometimes when I can't sleep. It's a cool place."

  
"I didn't even know it existed." Keith murmurs, looking at the planet Lance has focused in on. Earth.

  
"Why are you dressed like that?"

  
"Because it's freezing." Keith gives Lance an incredulous look.

  
"It..." Lance raises an eyebrow, "-feels fine to me?"

  
"What? You mean you don't feel like it's like, ten degrees?"

  
"No...? I don't know what you're talking about, Keithy boy. You must being going crazy." When Keith responds with a genuine look of confusion, concern starts to pool in Lance's stomach. Keith lifts up an arm and directs a sneeze into shoulders. A few seconds later, he sneezes again. He sniffles and wipes his nose on his wrist.

  
"Bless you. Also dude, that's gross."

  
Keith shrugs. Lance starts walking towards him.

  
"Are you sick?" He asks accusingly, as if he already knows the answer.

  
"What? No, I'm fine. I'm telling you it's just really cold." He's not sure why he feels the need to lie, but he does. Evidently, Lance doesn't believe him. As soon as he's close enough, he's reaching out the back of his hand, trying to feel Keith's forehead. Lance's hand is ice on his skin and Keith can't stop himself from wincing, causing Lance's expression to knit together with worry. He guides his mercilessly cold hand down to Keith's cheek, and then presses the same hand against his own forehead, letting out a low whistle. He finds it alarming that Keith is complaining about the cold when he's actually radiating heat.

  
"You have a fever." Lance announces, "I mean, it was kind of obvious. No offense, dude, but you really look awful." Keith figures this must be true, because there isn't even a hint of mockery in Lance's tone. He grimaces and looks at the floor.

  
"I'm sure it's nothing I can't just sleep off." Lance huffs a sigh.

  
"Are you sure? Maybe we should get Shiro or Allura if-"

  
" _No_!" Keith interrupts, nearly shouting. He clears his throat, "I'm not dying. That'll just cause them unnecessary worry. I'm not gonna wake people up just because I'm cold."

  
"But you're not just cold! You have a fever and they can help you-" Lance voice rises with every word and he's gesturing wildly with his arms.

  
"It's _fine_ , Lance." With all due respect, Lance is right. Keith has no idea what's wrong with him. They're light years away from Earth, and he doesn't know if this is some weird space ailment, or a strain of the flu that's thriving in this particular corner of the universe. Getting help, getting an actual diagnosis? That's the smart thing to do, because for all they know the Galra could attack them ten minutes from now, and Keith is no use to the team ill and incapacitated. But because Keith is tired and stubborn and hell bent on waiting until he can't anymore, he steps on Lance's suggestion like it's the desert sand at the Garrison.

  
"Okay, if you're that sure, then fine." Lance concedes in exasperation, "But don't go dying on us because you couldn't ask for help."

  
Slightly offended, Keith exhales sharply. He has to swipe his wrist underneath his nose afterwards and only regrets it a little.

 

"Anyways, you said you were cold, right?" Lance says in a softer tone. Keith nods, wary. "I have an extra jacket in my room, and some long sleeved stuff. The Altean pajamas I have are really warm too," Lance eyes Keith's jacket, "Do you want to borrow something?"

  
Keith's mind flashes back the single hanger on the wall.

  
"Uh...Yeah. I do. Thanks." It comes out sounding like he hadn't expected to say the words. The corners of Lance's lips twitch upwards.

  
"Okay, just wait here." He walks back towards the holopad, and then presses a few buttons. In a less than a second, the screen disappears in a single flash of light, leaving the room, once brilliant, in pitch darkness. Only the faint blue glow of the holopad remains.

  
"Ready?" Lance asks, as he slides the door shut. Keith mutters, 'mhm' to signal that he is.

  
They start to walk. Keith, though feeling more light headed and shaky than before, is determined to match Lance's pace. It's taking nearly all the willpower he has left, and Lance isn't even walking fast.

  
He's trying to focus on too much. He's looking at Lance's feet, trying to keep his own footsteps steady. Clenching his teeth to make sure they don't chatter. Tensing his shoulders to make sure they aren't trembling. Clutching the blanket to make sure he doesn't lose it. Breathing shallowly through his mouth to make sure he isn't sniffling too much. This whole ordeal is really starting to catch up with him. He starts to see small pinpricks of light and he stumbles forward, blindly reaching out for something to steady himself.

  
His fingers find Lance's shirt, and the blanket falls off one of his shoulders. With the meager loss of warmth comes the loss of all of Keith's energy, and he begins to tremble fiercely, like a he's just been fished out of the Arctic Ocean.

  
"Keith?!" Lance yelps, voice pitchy with concern. He turns slightly so that he's facing Keith, and puts a steadying hand on the red paladin's back. "Hey, buddy, it's okay. I've got you."

  
"Fuck, sorry. " Keith manages between shallow breaths.

  
"Let me know if you feel like you're going to pass out," Keith nods.

  
Lance bends to grab the other end of the blanket. He loops Keith's arm around his shoulder, and then grips the corner of the blanket close to his chest, so that its surrounds both of them like a cape, murmuring 'I have you, I have you' the whole time. The only source of warmth Keith can find is Lance's forearm against his neck, and it's hot and wonderful and not enough. He clings to it, tries to hone in on it. His teeth begin to chatter again.

  
"Shit. It's really bad, huh?" Keith musters the energy to sniffle in response, too exhausted to be embarrassed about how hard he's shivering against Lance.

Keith is almost dead weight in Lance's arms, and the harsh tremors running through Keith's body make him a little harder to hold, but if Lance is having a hard time, he's not showing it. He spouts quiet reassurances the entire time they walk. Keith allows himself to close his eyes, focusing on the beacon of Lance's voice. He's so tired.

  
Thankfully, Lance seems to know his way around the castle better than Keith does, and they reach his room within minutes.

  
Lance draws the covers of his bed back for Keith, telling him to wait there as if Keith could actually go anywhere else. Keith crawls in and sinks down against Lance's pillows, exhausted. He watches as Lance presses a blue button and the floor parts, giving rise to shelves of clothing. Blue and white baseball tees, blue short and long sleeved pajama tops, styled identically to what Lance is wearing now, Lance's olive jacket. He wonders why he's never thought to do that in his room. Lance tosses one of the pajama tops, long sleeved, so that it lands by Keith.

  
"Feel that, it's for you." Keith thumbs at the fabric, and it's so soft. Like cashmere and cotton and clouds, or some shit like that. It's the softest thing he's ever felt in his life. He holds it against his face, without thinking. Lance, who has been watching him expectantly the whole time, starts to laugh.

  
"I know, they're made of like angel wings or something. You can put it on whenever you're ready."

  
"Angel wings," Keith repeats, feeling the fabric again, "Wouldn't surprise me."

  
He has to mentally prepare himself to change. He takes a deep breath, grits his teeth, shrugs out of his jacket, and whips his v-neck off as fast as he can, leaving his clothes in a heap on Lance's floor. The air is ruthless against his chest. He can feel his skin dimpling immediately. As soon as he's popped his head through the neck of Lance's shirt, he wraps his arms back around himself and shivers. The fabric feels nice against his skin, soothing even, but despite it all, he's _still_ not warm.

  
"Is that any better?"

  
"A little bit." Years of experience with his siblings and months of living with Keith make it easy for Lance to see through Keith's feigned comfort. Lance sits down next to Keith.

  
"Here," Lance reaches for Keith's hands, cupping them in his own, "Wow, these are ICE-Y." He mutters to himself. He starts to rub his palms over them. He brings Keith's hands to his mouth, and blows on them gently before rubbing them again. His breath is warm and light. He repeats the process a few more times, concentrating intensely. Keith can't help but stare while an unfamiliar feeling knots itself in his chest.

  
No one has ever done something like this for him before.

  
"Does that help?" Lance asks when he's done, grinning sheepishly. "I used to do that for my siblings all the time,"

  
Keith pulls one of his hands from Lance's grip and presses his it against his cheek, and it's...warm. The rest of his body is still shaking, but his hands are warm. Warm and nice.

  
He realizes that he has a problem.

  
The closest thing he's found to warmth, the warmth he's been so desperately craving all night, has been...Lance. He needs to communicate that somehow, but he doesn't know where or how to start.

  
_'Hey, your body heat is the only thing keeping me from dying from hypothermia in space.'_

  
_'I've been doing a shit job at trying to warm myself up all night, why are you so good at it?'_

  
_'Hey, you're really warm, please.'_

  
_'Please.'_

  
"Keith? Hello?" Lance says his name, draws out the word 'hello', snapping him back to reality. He looks concerned. Keith hadn't even realized he'd spaced out for so long.

  
Lance starts to pull his hand back. It's the faintest twitch of his wrist, but as soon as it registers in Keith's brain, his stomach drops and panic washes over him. Maybe it's just his fever muddled brain, or maybe it's because he can hardly _think_ , he's so tired- but he does _not_ want to experience the biting chills anymore. Especially now that he's had even a fraction of Lance's warmth. Involuntarily, embarrassingly, he squeezes Lance's hand hard to keep him there, practically begging him not to break contact. Both of their eyes widen in shock. They stare at each other, and then at their hands, and then at each other again.

  
"It helps," Keith starts, biting his lip. He huffs a short sigh and starts again, "It's the warmest I've felt all night." Lance softens. Keith glances at their hands and Lance follows suit. "You're... so warm, and I'm just so fucking tired of being cold." The words feel thick on his tongue and they spill out awkwardly.

  
"So, you think I'm hot?" Says Lance, not missing a beat.

  
"You are hot. Your body heat is nice." Lance's face falls. He sighs loudly.

  
"Never mind."

  
Keith's expression is somewhere between exasperated and confused.

  
"Anyways," Lance gives Keith's hand a squeeze and then starts to get up. He starts to pack the sheets so that they're tightly cocooned around Keith's body, maneuvering himself every which way so that he's using only his free hand. When he's done, he says guiltily, "I'm gonna let go now, okay. I'm gonna go get you some water. Stay put, I'll be back soon."

  
"I promise you I'm not going anywhere."

  
Keith can't explain the airy feeling in his chest when Lance leaves.

  
True to his word, Lance returns with a glass of water, which he instructs Keith to drink. The cool liquid slides down his throat with ease. Lance watches Keith intently, making sure that he's drinking enough, and probably making sure that he's not going to spill all over himself. He nods to himself when Keith has finished half the glass, and then takes it from him and sets it on the floor.

  
"Hey, Lance?"

  
"Hmm?"

  
What he's about to say next is daunting, has his chest tightening with dread.

  
"You probably want to get some sleep now. I should get back."

  
"What?" Lance says, shocked. His eyebrows furrow together. "What kind of person do you take me for? I'm not a _monster_ , Keith. I don't even think you'd make it."

  
Keith wants to protest, but there's hardly an argument. Lance is right. Again.

  
"Did you think I got you all tucked in and everything just to force you back out? No way, my dude." Lance pauses and smothers a yawn into his fist, "Besides, _I'm_ warm, _you're_ cold. We're both tired. Just stay here." Lance smiles as obvious relief washes over Keith's face.

  
"Thanks...for everything."

  
"Don't sweat it, pal."

  
Lance presses a button. The lights go out. He steals some of his covers back from Keith, and then slips under. Keith's eyelids grow heavy. He's exhausted, ready for this night to be over.

  
"Are you still cold?" Even though Lance is whispering, his voice cuts through the darkness.

  
"Are we in space?" Keith mutters groggily. Immediately, Lance gasps.

  
"Was that a _joke_?!"

  
"Yes?"

  
"You must be really sick. Okay, hang on." Lance rolls over and spoons Keith, tangling their legs together and wrapping his arms around Keith's torso. His chin is tucked into the crevice of Keith's neck, so that Keith can feel the soft sighs of Lance's breathing. It's comfortable.

  
Keith has never been big on contact. He's never really had anyone to convince him otherwise, but right now the warmth enveloping his body is the closest thing he's ever felt to euphoria.

  
He sneezes, just once, sleepily raising a hand to stifle it. The force of it has him jolts both him and Lance.

  
"Sorry,"

  
"Bless you," Comes Lance's mumbled reply, and then, "Don't worry about it."

  
"Hey, Lance,"

  
"If you're about to tell me this is weird, I'll have you know that this is how me and Hunk and Pidge stayed warm when the heat went out at the Garrison, and that I'm just trying my best and-"

  
"No, that's not it. This is nice, actually. I just...If you get sick too, then I'm sorry."

  
"Oh. Okay, well in that case. I'll be fine, I'm not worried. You'll owe me," He laughs, warm against Keith's neck, "But right now, I just want you to feel better."

  
"Wow, I see how it is."

  
"Hey, Keith,"

  
"Mmhm?"

  
"Why were you awake?"

  
"I was trying to find..." Keith yawns, "find a thermostat. Space thermostat."

  
"Seriously?"

  
"Yeah. It didn't work. I didn't know what I was doing. It's fine, this is better than that ever would've been..." Keith trails off, reveling in a few more seconds of Lance's body heat before succumbing to exhaustion.

  
Lance feels heat rising in his cheeks. He wants to say something, but Keith is already snoring, soft and congested. He stays up for a few more minutes, just to be sure Keith is going to sleep okay, and then falls asleep himself.

  
If there are repercussions, they'll deal with them in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading friends!
> 
> Edited on 1/10/17 to fix minor things.


End file.
